


Unexpectedly Strong Exhibition

by CharismaticEnticer



Category: Die Anstalt
Genre: "Ze" Pronoun Use, Embarrassment, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderqueer Character, Humor, Mental Health Issues, Must Know Canon, Other, POV Third Person Omniscient, Past Tense, Scottish Character, Serious Funetik Aksent, Slap Slap Kiss, Snark, Spoilers, This is tough to tag without spoiling the game, To tag anymore would give the game away so look at my notes for further warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharismaticEnticer/pseuds/CharismaticEnticer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dolly was talking without thinking. Un/fortunately, Lyall was listening while thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpectedly Strong Exhibition

**Author's Note:**

> If you've clicked on this fic, I'm going to assume you've played the game and know what's up with Dolly. Here's the tags I **would** have put in as well if I wasn't so paranoid about spoiling people with this particular aspect: "Self-cest, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Multiple Personalities, Personality Envy, Lyall is my name for the wolf inside Dolly's stomach, Lyall means "Shield Wolf" so I thought it fitting, Dom/Sub undertones, Switching."  
> ...Yeah, I know, the game plasters the presence of Lyall on the front cover, but it didn't when I first played the game back in late 2011. I'm rather spoiler sensitive, and assume automatically everyone else is too. 
> 
> So anyway, yeah, have some Dolly/Dolly's-wolf self-cest-fuckery. Originally written and published on February 27th 2012.
> 
> Die Anstalt © Martin Kittsteiner.

“Ah envy ye sometimes, Lyall.”

Dolly was really saying this more to herself than to the addressee, comfortable in the knowledge that no one was yet around to see her in the therapy room. Mind you, from the perspective of the wolf inside her stomach, talking to herself and talking to zer were pretty much the same thing, especially when zer name was used.

So out ze came, and the sheep suddenly found herself propelled onto her back and facing her object of jealousy. “You called?”

“Is it tay much t’ ask fur ye tae stop appearin’ so suddenly loch ‘at?!” The shake in Dolly’s voice (and ears) betrayed her startled state.

“You’ve had three weeks to get used to it, Doll. If you can’t handle our design flaw—”

“Ye mean **yer** design flaw,” she corrected. “An’ dornt call me Doll.”

“Eh, whatever. I didn’t come out to argue nicknames with you,” said Lyall, almost nonchalant. “I came to argue semantics. What do you mean you “envy me”?”

“I… uh.” A small falter. Then, “Ah meant whit Ah said. Ah envy ye. Quite a bit, in fact.”

“Why?”

“Because. Yoo’re me, an’ yit yoo’re nae. If ‘at makes sense.”

Whether it did or didn’t, Lyall didn’t really seem to show either way, instead being oddly fascinated with zer frontmost claws. “Obviously not. I’m me, you’re you, we’re separate. Sorta. How is this news? What is there to envy about li’l ol’ me?”

Dolly couldn’t stop her next sardonic remark: “Who got fired an’ made ye mah therapist?”

“Doll, answer the question.”

“Ngh— okay. Tak’ a gander at yerself,” she began. “If anyain else realized they lived inside a stomach, they’d panic, but ye jist tak’ everythin’ in stride. Ye dornt hae any cares at all, ye dornt look it either, in yer eyes ur yer tail ur yer ears - which, coods ye stop scratchin’ please? This is a serioos talk.”

Ze quickly lowered zer paw from said ear, ready with an excuse: “I had an itch there. It was called your run-on sentence.”

Dolly very nearly giggled aloud, but common sense got the better of that. “Ye, ye see?” she said instead. “That’s kinda whit Ahm on abit. Ye make wisecracks insteid ay worryin’ aw th’ time. Yoo’re jist so… self-assured. Aam naethin’ loch ‘at. Ah mean, look at me.”

“I am. I see a sheep, but—”

“Exactly. Aam jist a sheep. Ah worry, Ah panic, Ah gie angry and Ah dorn’t e’en ken why. Aam glaikit. Gantin. And yoo’re nae gantin, yoo’re beau—”  
A sharp silence interrupted the word as she checked herself. Again.  
“…yoo’re everythin’ aam nae,” she then continued lamely. “That’s th’ irritatin’ hin’, Lyall - ye _ur_ me, an’ yit naethin’ loch. I want tae be loch ye, prood ay whit Ah am, confident. Dominant, Ah suppose. And ‘at’s wa ah envy ye. Thaur, ye satisfied?”

It seemed so; after all, Lyall’s tail was now wagging harder, even if ze wasn’t aware of it, and zer nearly-sleepy grin was unchanged. “My my. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you had a preschool-toy crush on me.”

If Dolly wasn’t already on her back, she would have landed there again with her sudden flustering. “W-who said Ah didn—I mean who said Ah did?” Her words came out thin and fast as she tried and failed to back off. “Coz ah dornt. Nae at aw. Ye’re me, that’d be wrang. That’d make sense, but it’d be wrang, so it’s nae true.”

“Never said it was, Doll.”

“Damnit, quit callin’ me ‘at.”

It took about a minute for Dolly to realize that no amount of backing away would make her wolf, or the elephant in the room, go away. So after settling back down, she changed tack, hoping that this time her mouth wouldn’t run away with the topic and drop her in it.  
“So, Lyall…whit if, oan an off chance, it _were_ th’ case?” she asked. “Th’ crush, ah mean. Oan ye. Nae ‘at it is. That’d be wrang. Jist saying, whit if it were? Whit diff’rence woods it make t’ ye?”

A shortish pause.

“Yes. I suppose it would do,” her counterpart said quietly, answering her unspoken addendum. “People would definitely wonder about it. Mostly about what I would see in you.”

The sheep tried to suppress a sigh. “Lyall, dornt be difficult, please.”

“I’m not,” ze protested. “I’m just saying what they would think. But as to what _I_ would… Well, I’d be curious, I guess.”

“‘at’s it?”

“No, let me finish. I’d be curious, a little confused, a little flattered. I’d hash it out like we’re doing right now. And then, if I decided I wanted to -” Lyall said what ze said next before ze could stop zerself, not really even registering the implication until it was out there and too late - “I’d probably kiss you. If that’s even possible.”

“What?!”

The thoughtless words had clearly struck a nerve. All at once, Lyall was the one on zer back, Dolly pinning zer down in the anger that rose so out of nowhere.

“ _Ye really ‘hink I’d allaw ‘at?_ ” Dolly screeched almost into zer face. “Dae ye honestly ‘hink that, e’en wi- that I would lit **ye** \- kiss - **me**? Really?!”

“Hey, if you didn’t want an answer you shouldn’t have ask—”

And then words stopped in their tracks, blocked by the collision of her muzzle with zers in a frustrated frustrating first.

A flood of questions and observations ran through Lyall’s head.  
Did Dolly even have a mouth to kiss with?  
Obviously yes, since it was moving against zer, rubbing fabric.  
Did Dolly have a crush on zer or not?  
Black hooves surrounded zer shoulders, preventing escape.  
Did Lyall feel a need of zer own, or was it just the compliments talking?  
Zer tail lay still, stiff against zer back.  
Was this actually happening?

She broke off, too quick too slow, before answers could be found to more than one of these, and finished the primary sentence.  
“I… after all ‘at gab ay me wantin’ tae be th’… ye ‘hink I’d lit ye dominate me loch ‘at? You really **dornt** ken me, Lyall.”

Once Lyall could decipher between thoughts again, ze asked the question with the least clear solution. “I could say the same of you. Aren’t you even a little ashamed? Of giving into something you insisted would be ‘wrang’?”

“Ye…a wee bit,” she admitted. “But when someain insults yer integrity, there’s nae time tae feel sham. Ur anythin’, really.”

“Then you’d better kiss me again before those pesky feelings come back, hm?”  
Before Dolly could respond, Lyall took the initiative for the next kiss. This time it was less angry but more forceful both at once, their taking more time to revel in the physical, forgetting emotion.  
Or trying, anyway.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, Doll- _lyyy_ ,” ze whispered as ze pulled away. “Just remember your place. Don’t let your envy get in the way. That’ll make this messed up little thing easier for both of us.”

Dolly only managed to growl “Go t’ hell, Lyall” before their mouths crashed together once more.


End file.
